I am not sure if it's because we are in the midst of the holiday season, but my mind and heart has been on the topic of neighbors. You know, the folks that live a stone's throw from your front door or the distance of the next house. Can you say that you know them? Today, I can say that I don't. I may know their names, tossed out as I quickly drive passed on my way to work or an errand. Some of my neighbors, I have never laid eyes on. I find that incredible considering the close proximity of our homes. It hasn't always been that way, but somehow, we have slowly moved away from being surrounded by neighbors to being surrounded by strangers.
I grew up on a street where we knew our neighbors and genuinely interacted with them on a daily basis. I recently posted on my social media accounts about a neighbor I remember fondly, Mr. Sullivan, a white-haired, salt-of-the-earth, Irish man, with a smile as wide as the homeland and a story for all occasions. Mr. Sullivan and his wife lived across the street from us in a lovely, well-maintained Victorian-style house. It had a big barn at the end of their driveway and a huge open field where he kept horses. Mr. Sullivan owned the town hardware store (pre-box store era), so it's safe to say that he knew just about everyone in town. Interestingly, the rumor about Mr. Sullivan was that he was a gun runner for the Irish Republican Army. I can recall my dad always walking across the street for a chat whenever Mr. Sullivan was out working around the yard.
One day, as a small child just learning to read, I excitedly ran across the street with my new book, Fraidy Cat, to show Mr. Sullivan my book and show off my reading skills. Polite children knock on front doors, which is what I did. I was warmly greeted and invited, for the first time ever into their home, into the parlor by Mrs. Sullivan. She called to Mr. Sullivan who was sitting out on their back porch, who yelled back for me to come to the back porch. Mr. Sullivan was sitting back on a chaise lounge in the screened porch. I bounced in and thrusted the book in front of him, asking if I could read the book to him. This was an unusual ask for me since I was a child who was insecure about reading aloud, but I knew that I could be safe from ridicule here. As I read from my new book, I could hear a low snore coming from the chaise. Although he was snoring a could see a smile across his face. I burst out in laughter and shouted at him to "wake up". He jumped himself "awake" and acted like he had just dozed off and encourages me to continue. This little charade continued until I finished the book. Lots of giggles and a memory built that feels like it was just yesterday.
How fortunate for me to have lived in a time where we could look to our neighbors as extended family. These were the people who stepped over the property lines for a handshake or hug. A time when they were included in life's events such as a new baby or car, birthdays, graduations, and deaths. They offered the right tool for the job, soup for the sick, and a shoulder for the grieving. We had keys to each other's house and phone numbers, "just in case". We shoveled each other's sidewalk and mowed that piece of grass between the two houses, not caring whose it was.
Things are different now. People are much more fearful, and from fear comes many unfortunate displays of lower vibrational behaviors; anger, prejudices, suspicions, and general distrust, that keep us from making connections. But just because it is, doesn't mean that we can accept it to be our destiny.
You may not have a Mr. Sullivan, but you can be the Mr. Sullivan for those around you. Start small if that works. Start by:
Waving and smiling at those around you.
Offer a handshake and brief conversation.
Ask questions and listen. Be curious.
Offer assistance that feels appropriate for you. Don't offer to build a deck if you don't have the skills to build a deck, but perhaps bring a pizza over.
Keep an eye out for trouble and act if you think it's necessary.
Organize a neighborhood event or activity such as a sock drive, a neighborhood yard sale or an open house.
Don't get discouraged if at first you don't get a warm and fuzzy reception. Keep offering and slowly you will not only begin to see a difference, you will be teaching others how to be a good neighbor, just like Mr. Sullivan.
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